A FEAR Memorial
by M10m gas mask soldier
Summary: Several decades after the end of The War, Becket and the Spartans are called upon by F.E.A.R. after their new Alpha Team goes Missing In Action. Upon resolving the situation, Becket begins to reflect on what was sacrificed to reach this point. The first part is a fun little homage to Eveline and the ending of the original F.E.A.R. game. Just wanted to post a new side story.


Title: A F.E.A.R. Memorial

Origin: The Broken Soldier

Type: One-shot/Side story

POV: Michael Becket

Rating: M

* * *

A.N.:

Hey everyone!

How has life been treating all of you? Good I hope!

So, I meant to have this posted as a quick one-shot in November but then I had things like a research paper distract me. I did try to get it posted over the break but then my favorite grandfather died so I have been dealing with that the past few days.

However, I haven't posted a new story in years and the show must go on!

So, I am posting this as a two-shot or three-shot depending upon how things go. I have finals over the next two weeks so I am getting this first chapter posted now. Wish me luck!

I hope you all enjoy this as much as I am enjoying writing it! 😊

The title will make sense when we get to the scenes in Fairport after this first silly part that is honestly an homage to both Resident Evil 7 and the ending of the original .R. game. Come on, I am basically almost contractually obligated to do an homage to Eveline :3

Like I said, this was meant to be another one-shot so please don't take it too seriously (at least this first part anyway) 😊 This first part was honestly more of something to cheer me up xDDD

I'll try to update as soon as I can while I work on everything else!

Also, full disclosure, this is the first thing that I have ever posted here using Office 365...and I'm getting a lot of issues using the site right now...so...assuming it actually did post it right...please feel free to tell me about anything weird that might have happened because I think I caught most of the things during proofing if you ever take the time to read this story.

Read and review if you want!

Disclaimer:

F.E.A.R. 2 Project Origin and all related characters and elements are trademarks of Warner Bros. Entertainment Inc. I claim no ownership of anything nor do I plan to profit from posting this.

* * *

Chapter 1: Missing In Action

* * *

The deafening chorus of agonized screams and gunfire filled my mind as I stared numbly at the sight of the images in the middle of my HUD. While anyone else would have been more interested in the trying to understand the charts and texts of the pictures of old lab reports, my attention was directly solely at the unmistakable calling card of the thing that I hated with every fiber of my being at the top of each piece of paper. With its three black diamonds arranged in the shape of a triangle and with a single solid circle in the center of the top one, the logo of Armacham Technology Corporation silently taunted me as its latest intrusion into my life was only moments away from getting started.

In retrospect, I should have known better than to think that the cleanup of the fallout left behind by the capitulation of ATC would not be a long, painful road for not only Sparta but also the rest of the still smoldering world. The company was gone but its experiments and facilities were still just as dangerous now as they were all those years ago. It had been decades since the end of the war and we were still being called upon by several countries multiple times every year to resolve incidents caused by the discovery of another remnant of Armacham.

"…ou, copy? I repeat...Becket, do you copy?"

Torn from my thoughts by the now much older but still very familiar mid-Western accented voice, I replied as I saw the F.E.A.R. Coordinator's ID appeared in my HUD, "This is Sergeant Becket of Dark Signal…solid copy, Betters."

After standing from where I had been siting on the first seat along the left side of Dark Signal's now extensively modified APC, and while I tried to speak as quietly as possible to let the hastily assembled members of my team get whatever sleep that they could before we arrived at our destination in less than two more hours, I began to walk towards the front of the APC while I asked the F.E.A.R. Coordinator, "Betters, have you heard from your Alpha Team since we last spoke?"

The old veteran explained, "Negative. At this point, we have to assume the worst and ensure that whatever is down there does not escape. I am going to take full responsibility for whatever happens...I should not have allowed things to escalate this far."

By then, I had moved close to the front where Manny was calmly drinking his own homemade coffee that I was certain contained enough caffeine to kill anyone except him. Upon noticing me, the only other true surviving member of the original Dark Signal nodded his head towards me while continuing to drink from his thermos. Placing my gloved left hand up against the interior wall of the APC's thick armored shell off to the left of where my fiercely loyal comrade was sitting, I leaned in to catch a glimpse of the seemingly abandoned, near pitch black section of Interstate that our behemoth was currently traveling upon in order to try to reach the missing members of F.E.A.R.'s new Alpha Team out of the slits in the front of the beast.

The newly formed team had been sent in to investigate a summer camp along the largely abandoned Gulf Coast for a sealed facility with the cover story that it would be would be an environmental disaster if a hurricane managed to breach the containment around the now easily seventy plus year old nuclear reactor. Despite the difficult terrain and increasingly frequent communication blackouts with Alpha Team, F.E.A.R. managed to find what was believed to be a maintenance entrance into a large, underground complex that was newer than The Origin Facility but reported to be in far worse condition due to the swampland surrounding it. The team was experiencing minor Psionic disturbances such as headaches and very brief auditory and visual hallucinations during the last few minutes of contact with Betters before communication was lost completely as they presumably continued on further underground.

I reassured my long-time ally, "Betters, you know me…it gets done one way or another. Since this will be the last time we will see each other in uniform on account of you being forced into retirement so they can pick some wide-eyed youngster in two weeks, consider my help with retrieving your team as my apology for being a jackass to you for so long."

The F.E.A.R. Coordinator smirked for brief moment before he remarked with his exhaustion-ravaged voice, "Considering that you live with **_her_** , everything that ATC did to you, and that you are simultaneously managing thousands of other soldiers like some kind of hive mind, I was honestly expecting to hear that you were in a straight jacket and balled up in a corner muttering to yourself within a month. So, I never really held any of it against you."

Noting the faint tint of burning orange and red on the interior side of my HUD glasses that was originating from my inhuman eyes that had been the first step down the path that I had decided to take with my "enemy of my enemy" proposition to Alma, I replied, "Thanks I appreciate that. You know, it is funny…whenever Amara cannot sleep because of her nightmares, she still asks me to tell her the story about The War. The more I tell it, the more I realize that I only regret letting my physical limitations keeping me from killing more of them…less of my family would have died if I had been stronger."

Betters started to reply but stopped as the connection began to weaken as something began to interfere with the signal. Realizing that there was not much time left, my longtime ally informed me with his increasingly distorted voice, "The President has agreed to delay further US Military involvement for twenty-four hours. Good luck, Sergeant."

Before I got the chance to reply, the interference finally became too strong and the communication window in my HUD closed completely as the link was cut. The former relative silence once again returned to the interior of the heavily armored beast. As my glasses returned to Standby Mode, Manny commented, "Hard to believe that pockets of Psionic energy like this are still in the United States…let alone that some of them are still strong enough to interfere with the Satellite networks."

I nodded and lightly patted my comrade on his left shoulder with my gloved left hand before I then quietly moved to return to my seat. Despite the dim illumination provided by the APC's low, dark red interior lighting, I was able to navigate the cramped quarters of the heavily armored war machine without waking up the snoozing members of Dark Signal. Upon sitting back down on the first seat of the left row, I smiled briefly as I felt the now all too familiar telltale sensation that accompanied the raven-haired demoness whenever she was nearby. Before my eyes, Alma materialized in her child form in a small cloud of glowing, ember-like particles.

The cloud around her had not even dispersed before the eerie yet beautiful simple red dress-clad girl moved to sit in my lap with both of her fresh blood-soaked bare feet dangling over the side of my left leg. Ordinarily, she would just shamelessly straddle my waist but, this time, she was being mindful of Alpha 1, who was sitting directly to my right. Regardless, without any hesitation, I moved my arms to meet her embrace as she gave me a quick but affectionate kiss before she then retracted to simply rest her deceptively fragile-looking frame against my armored chest. Alma's proficiency with creating her forms had progressed to the point that she could now properly replicate body weight and heat. If it were not for her still sinister appearance and the fact that she never changed her personality to try to match the form that she was using, she could easily pass herself off as a living person.

The interior running lights bathed my wife's pale body in its red glow as she looked up at me with her glowing orange eyes. I gently wrapped my arms around her as I eagerly savored her company. As I held the impossibly beautiful demoness close, I could not help but almost laugh at the fact that, at one time, I considered her my most dangerous enemy and a literal nightmare incarnate. Now, I could not imagine a life without her at my side.

Before I could stop myself, I remarked through our telepathic link, ' _I love you._ '

My wife's teasing nature surfaced as she replied with amusement in her sultry voice, ' _What was that? I did not quite catch that._ '

After I refused to reply, Alma let out a soft giggle before she gently rubbed her left cheek against the rough surface of my Dark Signal combat vest with the slightest smile on her otherwise almost mask-like blank expression as she said, ' _I love you too._ '

For a moment, we simply enjoyed each other's presence in silence with only the occasional bump of the APC interrupting our peace. Finally, the raven-haired psychic broke the silence when she informed me, ' _Sarah and the rest of our maids are preparing a special meal for our return._ '

I nodded and then replied, ' _Ah, I see…so that is where you have been._ '

Alma giggled again before she explained, ' _They are always so eager._ '

Sarah had since become the unofficial leader of the small army of maids that kept Wade Mansion in tiptop shape as well as looked after the rest of us that occupied it. Though the young, supernatural woman had agility-based combat skills that were on par with even the nearly inhuman Replica Assassins, which was the reason why she had the secret secondary role as a bodyguard for Amara and Mark, she had fallen in love with her job and took great personal pride in her current occupation. I had come to the conclusion that her near obsession with being a maid stemmed from her previous obsession with the television series "Happy Grove" and its almost comically unrealistic portrayal of the 1950's and '60's style American "nuclear family". All of this was, of course, on top of her continued hope to someday start a love triangle between Alma and myself as she still saw herself as the honorary mistress like she had ever since we had found her during The War.

I frowned slightly before I remarked, ' _We really should start encouraging them to take their jobs less seriously. I mean, loyalty and dedication are great and all, but I also want them to care about their own well-being as well._ '

My partner shrugged her tiny shoulders slightly before she replied, ' _You know how it goes, Michael…take in broken outcasts…treat them like family…give them a sense of purpose again...and they will blindly give you everything._ '

I remarked with a defensive tone, ' _You make it sound like we're a cult._ '

Alma shrugged again before she asked, ' _Does it really matter if we are?_ '

I smiled slightly before I replied, ' _Hell no._ '

From where he was sitting next to me, Alpha 1 remarked through our shared link, ' _Objectively speaking, all organizations are cults in their own way._ '

Before I could reply to the battle-hardened Replica VII Heavy Trooper, my wife said with a happy tone, ' _That's the spirit, you two._ '

Following her last statement, silence returned to both my mind and the interior of the APC. The silence combined with the feeling of peace provided by Alma's presence and the ambiance of the vehicle itself nearly caused me to doze off once more. However, at the last moment, my mind rebelled against the siren's call and I forced myself to focus on the mission at hand.

According to the limited intelligence that F.E.A.R. was able to provide, the facility was located beneath an isolated collection of buildings along the shore of a lake. Apparently, the area had been disguised as a private summer camp that was owned by a shell company of Armacham. Upon investigation, the F.E.A.R. Alpha Team had discovered the Maintenance Access Entrance inside an abandoned mine shaft in the woods nearby. While we could make use of the auxiliary entrances as well, it would save us a considerable amount of time if we brute forced the Main Access Entrance, which was located in the foundation of the basement of the Camp Counselor's Cabin that was located in the center of the camp itself.

The most troubling part of the entire thing was that, upon investigation, it was discovered that the facility's layout was eerily similar to the one that housed the infamous "The Vault" in Fairport. In addition to the unknown threat that was very likely to be housed deep inside the facility, knowing Armacham, there was also probably going to be a built-in automated security system. ATC was infamous for their robust, sometimes almost comically over-the-top security measures. Everything considered, whatever they left down there would still be active and a threat. While we had cleaned up countless remnants of Armacham since The War, we could not become overconfident.

As I began to formulate several contingency strategies for the assault on the facility, I happened to glance down and saw Alma staring at me with a look of loving adoration in her fiery glowing eyes. I paused as I gave her a questioning look in confusion. When I did, she explained through our link with a longing tone, ' _I love it when you get like that…so serious and focused…it is so cute that I cannot stand it._ '

Before I could stop myself, I replied with a defensive tone, ' _This is serious!_ '

The raven-haired demoness that had enjoyed teasing me ever since she was my special childhood friend simply remarked, ' _Yeah…_ '

Playing right into her trap, I continued, ' _We don't know what's down there!_ '

Alma replied with an overly dramatic tone, ' _How frightening…_ '

Getting frustrated, I began, ' _Alma…_ '

The red-dress clad Psionic giggled softly before she reassured me through our link, ' _Michael, you are too paranoid…at this point…what could possibly happen that we have not faced before?_ '

* * *

Several hours later…

* * *

I let out an involuntary cry as I landed hard on my back as pieces of wood hit the floor all around me after I had been thrown through the exterior wall of the ground floor of the Camp Counselor Building. Luckily, I been thrown through the front of the two-story log cabin just off to the right of the door and, thus, had just narrowly missed the window on that side of the building. In addition, my combat vest's supply pack served to slightly cushion the impact with both the wall and the hardwood floor. However, it was still enough to briefly disorient me.

When I finally willed my vision to clear while my entire frame was still reeling and my back in particular felt as though there was an inferno burning fiercely inside my spinal cord, I saw my wife in her child form looking down at me from where she was standing with both of her bloody feet on the floor on either side of the crown of my head. Annoyed by the faintly visible amused smile that the raven-haired girl was flashing me from beneath the bangs of glossy raven hair that were partially obscuring her pale heart-shaped face, I remarked with traces of pain in my voice, "You were saying?"

Being a terrifying entity of almost unequaled nightmarish supernatural horror herself, Alma replied calmly over the unearthly sounding manic laughter of the afflicted individual that had just thrown me through the wall, "I would have preferred an epic fight at a cool rundown Southern plantation, to be honest."

Letting out a low grunt, I moved to get to my feet as I looked towards the opening in the Camp Counselor Building before me. As I did, the middle-aged, Caucasian man with smoke-grey hair and beard that was dressed in a bloodied green lightweight raincoat and mud-covered light brown waders approached me with a Pulaski axe that had rust-covered but still noticeably sharp blades and a worn wooden handle held in his callused hands.

When I managed to get to my feet, I materialized my skull ski mask over my face and raised my upgraded Patten 7.8mm Assault Rifle up at the ready to face the infected man. However, the older man laughed and then asked me with a gravelly voice, "Oh so the big man's got himself a big gun…you know how to use it soldier? Don't want you hurtin' yourself…"

Time seemed to slow to a crawl while the world around me became little more than a blur as I instinctively activated my Enhanced Reflexes when the man began to approach me with his improvised weapon at the ready. In slow motion, the man swung his axe towards me with enough force to easily inflict a devastating blow thanks to the effects of the Psionic mutation that had consumed his body. However, I had more than enough time to dodge the swing by moving back enough to cause the metal axe blade to miss my neck by mere inches.

Before my assailant could react, I fired three rounds into his head. The world around me had returned to normal as I deactivated my surgically augmented reflexes when the rounds impacted the man's skull and effectively ripped it apart like a watermelon that had been struck multiple times by a sledgehammer. However, the rounds had no sooner inflicted the devastation upon their target than, with the sound of popping flesh and crunching bone, the man's head began to rebuild itself.

From behind me, I heard Alma comment with a mildly interested tone, "Oh my…"

As soon as he was capable of talking once again, my assailant remarked with an amused tone as he began to walk towards me with his axe held menacing up in front of him, "That gun isn't going to work the way you think it will, boy."

I smirked beneath my skull ski mask as my body was enveloped by a nearly pitch-black aura. The afflicted individual cried out in alarm as molten hot lengths of barbwire manifested out of the wooden floor around him and then began to wrap themselves around his frame. As he was restrained by the glowing metal objects, I laughed darkly at my captured foe who clearly had no idea who he was dealing with.

As my assailant began to try to free himself, Alpha 1 appeared in the opening in the front of the cabin and raised his rocket launcher as he prepared to fire point blank into the restrained man's back. Moments before my heavily armored brother discharged his weapon, he called out with the barest traces of emotion in his deep, modified voice, "Die motherfucker!"

The payload of the rocket's warhead was more than enough to blow the man's entire upper body from the waist up apart in a bloody cloud of fire and organic fragments. However, for a brief, fascinating moment, the man's legs began to resume walking towards me in a manner that indicated that the now seemingly immortal individual was still "alive". After shouldering his rocket launcher by its strap, Alpha 1 drew his automatic shotgun and charged forward towards the animated limbs. Meanwhile, with the aura still enveloping my frame, I began to approach the remains of the man with my assault rifle held at the ready.

The afflicted individual had already nearly finished regenerating by the time that both of us were within striking distance of him. However, just before we could tear into the now screaming middle aged man, we were forced to move back as tree roots suddenly erupted out of the floor and began to wrap themselves around his frame just as my barbwire had moments prior.

As the manifested roots began to rip him apart, our assailant cried out in confusion, "Wha…?"

Just as he was completely torn apart and consumed by my beloved companion, I taunted him with a low tone, "Say hello to Mother."

After the pieces of the man and the roots disappeared, I turned to look at Alma. When I did, I saw the faintest traces of a satisfied smile beneath her usual mask-like façade before she asked, "I cannot let you two have all the fun now, can I?"

Before I could reply, the angry, frustrated voice of a young girl called out from behind her, "You're all not playing very nicely!"

We all looked to see a young, dark-haired girl in a dark blue, almost black dress and matching boots that reached up to about halfway to her knees who was standing near the back wall of the first floor of the cabin. She was glaring at us from beneath the bangs of her shoulder-length hair in a way that I could only describe as the look a child would give moments before having a temper tantrum. However, before the strange young girl could unleash her rage, Alma teleported directly in front of her mere inches away from her face. The demoness was still in her own child form and her hair was floating slightly as if it were in a breeze while her manifested body was enveloped by a pure black aura as she roughly grabbed the other girl by her chin with her now blood-covered right hand.

As she stared at the mysterious girl with her glowing demonic eyes while she held her face in a vice-like grip, my wife asked the now terrified Psionic with a calm but almost unfathomably chilling tone that was just barely audible over the firefight that was raging outside the cabin, "Tell me, do you think that this is a good idea? Do you really wish to play with someone like me?"

Seemingly more out of panic than anything else, the girl threw Alma back through the air a few feet with a respectfully powerful Psionic blast. However, I could sense just from this outburst that, while she was indeed strong enough to go a few rounds with my lifelong companion, ultimately, she was no march for Alma.

After calmly landing on her feet directly before me, the red-dress clad demoness giggled with a dark tone before she then addressed her newest rival, "Very well…I shall be your playmate so long as you can continue to amuse me."

After Alpha 1 had moved to stand to Alma' s left and I had moved to stand to my wife's right, the mysterious little girl shot back, "Don't…don't underestimate me!"

Before our eyes, a miasma appeared before her as she amassed a collection of Psionic energy before then sending a charged blast towards us. However, this time, Alma caught the mass of energy in front of her and then smiled slightly before sending it directly back at the girl. Moments before the miasma could reach her, the dark blue dress-clad individual teleported out of harm's way in a cloud of dark blue particles that disappeared as it traveled below the floor.

The blast continued on to demolish the fireplace and blow a truck-sized hole in the back wall of the two-story cabin. Her child form returned to its less bloodied normal version as Alma took a step forward and then turned to look at me as she informed me, "She has retreated into the facility underground to guard her body, Michael. Quickly, we must chase after her!"

I nodded and then asked my companion, "The F.E.A.R. Operatives?"

She shook her head before she replied, "They are down there but I do not know what state they are in…there is too much interference for me to sense them clearly."

I remarked, "Better than me…I can't sense anything down there because of that girl."

I then turned to look at my brother and addressed him, "Thanks for the assist."

The hardened veteran Heavy Trooper shook his cracked, porcelain mask-covered head for a moment before he said with a voice that had clear traces of self-loathing in it, "Apologies, sir…I cannot believe I let him get the drop on us."

I smiled and humored my other nearly lifelong companion as I informed him with a light hearted tone while I playfully slapped his right shoulder with my gloved left hand, "Nah, it was my fault…besides, it is not the first wall I have been thrown through."

Before he could reply, I turned to face the hole in the front of the cabin. There, I could see Foxtrot 813 firing upon the other afflicted victims of the mysterious girl from the porch of the building with his own heavily modified Patten Assault Rifle. Unlike the man that we had just neutralized, the majority of the individuals seemed to have devolved into little more than what I could only describe as humanoid creatures that did not possess the same extraordinary-level regenerative ability. In addition, just like ordinary human beings, they were incredibly vulnerable to headshots and explosions.

However, this place had become little more than a trap for the average individual as the girl had been amassing an army of victims for some unknown purpose that currently eluded me. I could easily understand why even a F.E.A.R. team would have difficulty in combating these creatures. Luckily, thanks to the combination of the supporting firepower of our APC and the extensive combat experience of the members of Dark Signal, we were more than a match for the girl and her army of humanoid monsters.

I called out into the firefight, "Point Man! Your expertise is needed!"

Moments later, Foxtrot moved slightly to allow the still masked and mute former F.E.A.R. Operative to get past him and enter the cabin through the hole. As the true flesh and blood son of Alma Wade and the First Origin Prototype silently made his way towards us, I could not help but once again note that he still continued to wield the stock G2A2 Assault Rifle that he had been using ever since the Fairport Incident. However, I had honestly come to love the strange man like a brother despite his peculiar habits. We really had become a family, especially since the son and daughter of both him and Jin were perfect playmates with the rest of the children that inhabited Sparta like Amara and Mark.

As I began to lead everyone towards the basement of the cabin, I ordered, "Foxtrot, you and the rest of Dark Signal hold them up here."

The clone of Paxton Fettel called back with his typical cocky tone, "Don't worry, sir…these guys ain't got shit on us…I might even finally pass your kill count."

I shot back with a humorous tone, "You wish, 813."

Upon entering the basement, the true extent of the resources that Armacham had devoted to this facility was on display as an industrial freight elevator that was the size of the one that I had used to escape the Outer Ring of the Harbinger Facility in Fairport loomed before us. The haste at which ATC had abandoned the likely secret sister program of Project Origin was on display as several full cargo containers were still on either end of the elevator, which forced us to stand in the very center of the device as Alma used her power to make it to "work" once again.

As we began to descend down into the darkness, my HUD glasses lit up as Keira's picture appeared in my com link's I.D. as she addressed me with a worried tone, "Be careful down there, Becket!"

Her picture was replaced by Manny's seconds later as he remarked, "Good luck, man!"

I smiled slightly before I assured them, "Thanks guys…don't worry though, I'll find the F.E.A.R. team and resolve this as non-dramatically as I possibly can. Becket, out."

My com link went silent and I was left with my thoughts. The last time an operative had entered and "pacified" a facility like The Vault, it had resulted in the Origin Explosion. If we were forced to repeat Point Man's actions here, it would be both an environmental and a diplomatic disaster for the United States and Sparta. Our involvement was a personal favor and F.E.A.R. was one of the few organizations that both I and the rest of the Spartans respected so I could not let this situation spiral any more out of control than it already had in the past few hours.

I was riled from my thoughts as I felt Alma place her small left hand on my lower back before she assured me, "I'm here, Michael..."

From where he was standing directly to my left, Alpha 1 remarked seconds later, "I've got your back, brother."

Though he continued to be a mute, I then heard Point Man loudly reload his assault rifle to assure me in his own unique way. I could not help but smile in response. We had indeed become something akin to the Addams Family but I would not want it any other way. We were a family and we always supported each other.

As we neared our destination, I hid my hesitation beneath bravado as I remarked, "Let's get this shit over with so we can go home!"

My companions all let out their own affirming statements just as we arrived at the still surprising well-lit facility. When the elevator finally stopped, I took point as I exited the device with my assault rifle held firmly in my grasp and at the ready while my body was once again enveloped by a nearly pitch-black aura.


End file.
